Flirted with my best friends neighbor while we sat on my best friends porch. He'd been out on his own porch drinking and came over to join us.
Of course, I ended up going home with him. I'd planned to stay at my best friends house, so sleeping over one house away seemed like an easy yes, please. It was my daughters weekend to be with her dad, so I had no responsibilities holding me back, and the weekend spread out in front of me with wide open abandon.
Paul had a good job in insurance and seemed to be a permanent bachelor who enjoyed the same things I did: drinking and sports.
His home was immaculate. A cleaning lady came to ensure everything was just so, and he had his collared shirts professionally pressed and hung.
We drank our faces off before we started kissing near the pool table. Paul seemed to want to lay me down on it, but also expressed concerned that we might destroy the delicate felt.
Up to bed we went, where orgasms shot through us, though dulled by all the alcohol and perhaps the unfamiliarity with one another, at least for me.
We passed out into hard sleep, until I woke, thuds of water soaking me. Had I been dreaming of a rain storm?
Nope.
There was Paul, on his side of the bed, standing stark naked with his junk in his hand.
He must have been the one dreaming. As if he were in front of a toilet, Paul was pissing right onto his bed, and the droplets were ricocheting from the bed and spraying me slightly,
After, he was mildly apologetic as he handed me a towel.
We spent the rest of the night in a guest room, too drunk to shower off the urine.
I put on my clothes in the morning, enjoyed french press coffee with him, browsed through his bookshelf, borrowed ibuprofen, and did the walk of shame back to my friends house next door, still covered in Paul piss.
Comments